Speaking of Company

Posted on Tue Jan 14th, 2025 @ 9:24pm by Chief Warrant Officer Alexion Wylde & Lieutenant Astrid Nyx

2,165 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: To Boldly Go
Location: USS Fenrir
Timeline: Day 4 - crew board the Fenrir

ON:

Astrid Nyx sat in a quiet nook near a viewport. It was just past the edge of the night duty shift, and the dim lighting cast a gentle glow over her sketchpad. The only sounds in the corridor were the faint hum of the air filtration system and the quiet scritching of her graphite pen. The view beyond the viewport, the interior of the great docking bay that the Fenrir was still housed in, flickered with activity. There were crews working around the clock here, duty shifts coming on fresh in a continuous rotation. She followed the contours of another docked ship -- a retrofit Galaxy class -- biting her lip as she tried to get the perspective just right.

This little ritual offered a nice contrast to the bustling activity she’d experienced during her first few days aboard. Between her nearly ceaseless meetings with the senior staff, to her work trying to settle Aurelia into this new life, she had not enjoyed more than a few minutes to herself. This felt like a luxury. With her pens in hand, she focused on capturing the beauty of the nearby starship's curves.

Her mind wandered as she sketched. She liked meeting new people, usually. She wasn't quite sure how it had all gone yet. She smiled to herself, though, thinking of her conversation with Hobbes -- there might be room for friendships here, given enough time. Still, she’d met so many new faces, learned the intricacies of the ship’s medical facilities, and still felt like she had barely begun to establish herself as the new Chief Medical Officer.

A soft sound of footsteps approached, and Astrid looked up to see a young man ....

"You're really good," he said openly and honestly, watching her with a small smile of awe as he motioned to the book in her hands. He looked maybe 15 or 16 to human eyes, his longer blonde hair tied back and his clothing casual. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just..." he shrugged as he offered an awkward smile. "I don't see many people doing art like this in Starfleet."

"No?" she looked down at the pad. It had started as a hobby and become a passion. She wondered what it meant for Starfleet that this youngster thought it odd that an officer would be doing something artistic, at least out in the open. For some reason, the thought made her feel tired and oddly cold. But she flashed a smile at the young man nevertheless. "Well, thank you. It's the best way I've found to relax. To let go of the day."

She transferred her pen to the same hand that held her paper and offered her now free hand to shake. He had the look of someone just old enough to appreciate being treated like a fellow adult. "Astrid Nyx," she said. "CMO."

"Oh...oh!" a grin suddenly appeared on Laeon's features as he took the hand to shake warmly. "You're going to be my Dad's boss! Good luck..." he added teasingly, but it was clear that it was fond rather than any real kind of warning.

"Your dad's..." she stared at him hard for a moment. "Wylde? Is that right?" Her mind jogged, a detail from her new medical officer's file popped into her brain: the number two-hundred and twenty-nine. This forced her to take a moment to reassess the apparent youth in front of her.

"I haven't met your father yet, actually - though I think the computer scheduled him in for the full staff meeting in a couple of days. There's been a lot going on." She realized she was staring a little too hard, some part of her mind searching for the thirty-odd years that this child had on her own twenty-eight. The galaxy is a crazy place, she thought ruefully. "How was the ride here? Settling in alright?"

Laeon nodded quickly, moving to perch on the bench close to her as he smiled warmly at the friendly question from the doctor. "Yes, thank you...my Dad's last posting was on a tiny ship, so it's nice to have some more space," he had to admit. "Do you draw often? You're really good," he chuckled softly, unable to hide his admiration as he looked to her sketch. Especially when it was from the hand of a doctor, talented in the sciences and medicine.

Following his gaze, Astrid felt a small glow of pride. The Galaxy-class ship she'd been modeling from had elegant lines, and she fancied she'd managed to catch that elegance well in places. She'd never had formal training in the arts, beyond a few sporadic classes and some video guides, but it was a skill that mattered to her. She remembered her mother's drawings, the way she had always smudged the charcoal to create depth and perspective. She would have the faint silver of charcoal residue on her thumb all day afterwards.

"For a few years now. I took it up after the Academy as a way to relax." She glanced at the teen (regardless of his actual years, that's what he was, she reminded herself). "Do you draw?"

Laeon nodded quickly to the question, relaxing at the easy way she spoke to him. It was strange, more often than not, being around people from another culture, literally being out of step with them in terms of his age. Alongside his natural awkwardness of relative youth, it wasn't always easy. But she made him feel...comfortable. "I prefer graphite or charcoal, but I have tried with paint too. I haven't made much more than a mess once paint gets involved though," he admitted with a soft laugh. "I guess you have those 'surgeons hands'...that's the phrase, yes?"

"That's a phrase," she said, humor at the edge of the words. "Not sure it applies here. I started drawing long before I started out on a medical career." That was true. She'd spent hours staring out at the world from her mother's apartment window when she was little. Her sketches of the Taras slums danced in her memory -- oddly picturesque for all that they had been terrible places for a child to grow up.

"Now... painting is something I've been doing more recently. Water colors. There are so many wonderful ways to make the colors come alive. It's just practice, though. Practice and time, and maybe the willingness to get things wrong." At this last, she winked at Laeon. If he was anything like she had been as a teen, the thought of not doing things perfectly the first time would be galling. She suddenly found herself wondering what his father was like. Did he share his son's soft-spoken mannerisms and love of art?

Laeon made a slight but almost playful grimace at her mention of willingly getting something wrong. Her assumption had been right, that idea was pretty daunting to him. But he took her to be honest to her words, naturally trusting in nature as he was. "Maybe I could watch you do it one day..."

"There you are..." Alexion made short work of the distance between them as he strode towards his son. He was tall, and despite being clearly broader than his son with his age, there was a family resemblance in the younger Wylde's slighter features. He reached out, squeezing his shoulder firmly. It was a fond gesture, but also a habit...the tip of a finger touching the youth's neck with the grip, so he could use his Talent to make sure he was okay.

"I found your boss!" Laeon grinned to his father, his same blue-violet coloured eyes glinting with it as he motioned to Astrid. "She's an artist, isn't that amazing..."

Alexion glanced to Astrid as if only just realising she was there. He cleared his throat slightly at it being a less than ideal way to meet his new Chief. Not that he was a man that put much - if any - stock into rank. Which didn't make him the most respectful person in the fleet. Especially when coupled with his more taciturn and cynical nature and his reputation for having a bad bedside manner. But still...there were first impressions and first impressions. "I'm...sorry, Doctor, I didn't realise. Has he been mithering at you?" he asked, ignoring the nudge and eyeroll from Laeon.

There were times when the universal translator didn't live up to its name. "Sorry?" she said. She glanced from father to son. "If you mean, has he been bothering me... not at all. We were just discussing the merits of getting things wrong when it comes to art. And... perhaps other things." She grinned, hoping she sounded disarming and friendly rather than, well, anything else. The chief warrant officer was a tall man, good-looking, with the rugged lived his life fully. And how many years of life? Astrid wondered, silently. This man was over two centuries old. How was she supposed to give orders to someone with two whole centuries of life experience! Inwardly, she sighed. This job was going to be complex, wasn't it?

Tucking her art pad under her arm, she stood up, which only seemed to accentuate the difference in their heights even more. Feeling a little silly, she held out her hand. "I was just telling your son that I'd been looking forward to meeting you at the full staff meeting on Tuesday."

Alexion took and shook the hand firmly, having lived in the Federation long enough to get the cue. Even if Laeon was the one that had really bedded himself into the culture, far more comfortably than he ever could. He told himself that it was the lad's age, that it made it easier for him. But in reality, it was probably more to do with his warmer and more trusting nature. "Tuesday? That's sooner than I thought," he said lightly, trying not to sound curious as to whether she had information yet on what they were being sent out into.

Astrid saw the hesitation in his eyes, even if she couldn't intuit his reason. "It's nothing to worry about, but some of the staff came aboard earlier than expected, and we also had a bit more work than expected on the refit. I think we..." she shook her head suddenly and laughed, "...well, look at me, jumping into work. I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear any of that right now. Stars know, I don't mind having a moment or two away from the clock."

Alexion couldn't quite help the chuckle that escaped; it was certainly a breath of fresh air. So many Starfleet officers were so po-faced, it was more than a little refreshing to hear. As someone who had been given no choice in the career he'd embarked on, he had a somewhat complicated relationship with the medical profession. And his own identity as a doctor. "Is that why you...?" he motioned to the picture.

"Oh, this? No... well, maybe. I've always liked to draw. I suppose it is a sort of an escape from... whatever else is happening in life. But it started because I wanted to notice things that were beautiful. When... the place I grew up wasn't like this." She gestured with her drawing pad, taking in the scope of the clean hallway, and by association the whole of the Federation. "There were a lot of hard things when I was young. But my mom always told me to take careful notice of the beautiful things. I guess it stuck. So now, it's just something I try to do whenever I can."

Laeon watched with empathy and regret as she spoke, clearly regretful that she'd been made to feel that way. Without realising it, he reached out to take a hold of his father's arm.

Alexion's response was more considered; a respectful nod of understanding to her words. In truth, he'd never admit it, but the Federation's mission to help and protect others was one of the only things that kept him there...well, that and needing a reliable profession to raise his son. "Best to enjoy the space while you can then, we'll be cooped up on a ship in no time at all..." he replied gruffly, although the tiniest hints of humour laced the grumbling nature of the comment that betrayed he wasn't really complaining.

Picking up on the humor, Muninn grinned. "Well, the company is what makes it all work. So maybe being cooped up won't be all bad."

"Depends on the company you keep," Laeon replied before his father could, but his smile was knowing and playful, and the jibe had been directed at his father, not her.

OFF:

Lieutenant Astrid Nyx
Chief Medical Officer
USS Fenrir

CWO Alexion Wylde
Medical Officer
USS Fenrir
[PNPC Blake]

Laeon Wylde
Civilian Dependent
USS Fenrir
[PNPC Blake]

 

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